I had an interesting realization this week. Well, more like last week. They are all starting to blur together...
But have you ever had that startling moment where you are laying on your couch in your casual Sunday sweats, eating potato chips on your sandwich and watching a Friends marathon and all of a sudden realized..."Holy crap, my life is NOT a sitcom"?
If you answered no to the above question, just stop reading now and go back to your spot at Central Perk with Chandler, Joey, Monica and the gang. There's not much more here for you.
And for those that answered "Yes" to the above question...what a BUZZ KILL is that? Am I right? Now obviously I don't picture myself living in New York with a nuclear group of my 5 closest friends, but similar to my beef with the false promises that Rom-Com's have breeded for the average single girl for the last 27+ years of my life, I have found in sitcoms.
As an avid Friends fanatic, I grew up on a show that promised me a super close group of friends that all live on the same block and have fun adventures and give me something to aspire to "when I get to be their age". And then one day, when you are laying on the couch eating potato chips you are smacked in the face with the realization that "Holy crap, my life is NOT a sitcom." It's no longer about when I get to be their age, this is how things will be, but now it's "I'm at their age, and this is what I haven't done". Sure, I could try to be a little more like my Friends counterparts and walk across the hall to my neighbors apartment in my pajama pants and take milk out of their fridge for my bowl of Special K that I brought in my own quirky themed bowl, but I'm not sure that this is how I want to awkwardly introduce myself to the couple across the hall or finally have my first arrest on record. Maybe I should take a page out of Monica's book and atleast bake them a bundt cake or something first.
We spend so many years waiting to live a life that we envisioned, that it can be a jarring discovery to realize that you are past the point of waiting for it to start and are in fact already living it - even if it isn't the hand that you expected to be dealt. And when you stop to look around at every one else around you growing and progressing...getting married, having kids, finishing doctorates, getting promoted, buying houses...all these benchmarks of "growing up" can seem so overwhelming. It can be challenging not to measure your personal accomplishments against those of your peers, especially in a society that so heavily promotes being able to "do it all". How can I "do it all" if I'm not really doing any of it?
The theme for 2012 was not to worry about any of this. A year without a plan, just go with the flow. And I've been very successful at it. But we are running out of time in 2012 and need to start thinking in 2013 terms. Lucky 13...maybe that's next year's theme. The year of George! Er...The year of Cindy Lou! Guess I better go back and familiarize myself with the Resolution Rules before I get too set on the next one.
So, as I ponder these things for myself and start to accept the fact that I am living in the present and can't keep waiting for the future to happen, I challenge all of you to also consider what it is that you want to be in your present that you have been seeing in your future. Or don't. Whatever you're feeling really.
All things said, I do still hope that the Friends do a reunion show someday. I'll totally watch it. The One Where They All File for Social Security.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Monday, October 15, 2012
L'Enfer, C'est Facebook and Politics
L'enfer, c'est les autres.
Translation: Hell is others.
This existentialist motto is one that captivated me as a French major in college. So simple, yet so bold, and completely terrifying. Even though I grew up in the Jewish faith (well, mostly), I still grew up in the southern Bible belt and heard for years about a vision of Hell being all firey and brimstoney and Satan like. Yikes.
And then along came Jean-Paul Sartre, with a completely different explanation for the afterlife in the event that you don't play by the "rules" in the present life. Because what could be worse than being tortured by nemeses for the remainder of eternity?
Well, obviously my buddy J-P never experienced a political season on Facebook (I wonder if he and Simone would have been FB official...)...
Now, before you get entirely heated up and ready to scream your head off at whatever opinion I don't care about, allow me to note that this is not a political post. I don't care who wins the Presidency, honestly. I don't care who the Vice President is. And I can guarantee you that I couldn't name a single Senator in either Georgia or Virginia. Unless they put a bumper sticker on Mickey's rear, I'm probably not going to notice one either.
But anyone who has logged onto Facebook in the last 2 weeks, and for the next few weeks until this painfully annoying process is put to rest, has been completely berated by ridiculous political commentary that we don't really want. Whatever Mitt-bama nonsense people are selling, I ain't buying.
And I pretty much reached my breaking point this morning when the political season managed to ruin my work out. My holy sacred escape, the one time of day that I get entirely to myself, out of contact, free of frustration. I work out in a basement with no cell phone reception, and the only reason I tolerate my crappy musty apartment gym is because there is no cell reception. No one can find me (hopefully no creepers are reading this...). But this morning, my mp3 player was dead. So at 5:45am, struggling to wake up and get my energy going, I figured I could fake it by putting the TV on for some entertainment. In the words of the great Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, "Big Mistake. Huge."
There was only 1 channel available on the TV. An unnamed news network. Ok, not terrible I guess, maybe I'll luck out and catch the sports and weather segments. Wrong. It just happened to be Election Watch hour while I was down there. So at first I decided to give it a go because it couldn't possibly be worse than tiredly running in silence in the wee hours of the morning. Yup, wrong again. It was painful. My body was physically in pain listening to these pundits scream at each other over and over again. I would have rather found the "Nails on a Chalk Board" station.
Therefor, I postulate that L'enfer is NOT les autres. L'enfer is in fact American political season. I hate it, I hate every bit of it. The left wing, the right wing, the middle, ALL of it. I can't wait until November 7th. No, I take that back, maybe the 8th is safer. Atleast by then, I will be able to map out a full listing of all the countries that everyone will insist they are moving to in order to cope with the results of the election. I will then use that map to plan my next vacation of where NOT to go. I'd rather take a trip to L'enfer, because les autres sound way more tolerable than an eternity of listening to any more debates, news casts, Facebook posts, or roadside advocates.
And in case you were wondering about my political affiliations...Mickey/ Jackson 2012 all the way! I'm guessing I'll probably have to write that one in though. The fever hasn't quite caught on at a national level, mostly just in our apartment.
Oh, which reminds me...Rule #6...no bumper stickers.
Translation: Hell is others.
This existentialist motto is one that captivated me as a French major in college. So simple, yet so bold, and completely terrifying. Even though I grew up in the Jewish faith (well, mostly), I still grew up in the southern Bible belt and heard for years about a vision of Hell being all firey and brimstoney and Satan like. Yikes.
And then along came Jean-Paul Sartre, with a completely different explanation for the afterlife in the event that you don't play by the "rules" in the present life. Because what could be worse than being tortured by nemeses for the remainder of eternity?
Well, obviously my buddy J-P never experienced a political season on Facebook (I wonder if he and Simone would have been FB official...)...
Now, before you get entirely heated up and ready to scream your head off at whatever opinion I don't care about, allow me to note that this is not a political post. I don't care who wins the Presidency, honestly. I don't care who the Vice President is. And I can guarantee you that I couldn't name a single Senator in either Georgia or Virginia. Unless they put a bumper sticker on Mickey's rear, I'm probably not going to notice one either.
But anyone who has logged onto Facebook in the last 2 weeks, and for the next few weeks until this painfully annoying process is put to rest, has been completely berated by ridiculous political commentary that we don't really want. Whatever Mitt-bama nonsense people are selling, I ain't buying.
And I pretty much reached my breaking point this morning when the political season managed to ruin my work out. My holy sacred escape, the one time of day that I get entirely to myself, out of contact, free of frustration. I work out in a basement with no cell phone reception, and the only reason I tolerate my crappy musty apartment gym is because there is no cell reception. No one can find me (hopefully no creepers are reading this...). But this morning, my mp3 player was dead. So at 5:45am, struggling to wake up and get my energy going, I figured I could fake it by putting the TV on for some entertainment. In the words of the great Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, "Big Mistake. Huge."
There was only 1 channel available on the TV. An unnamed news network. Ok, not terrible I guess, maybe I'll luck out and catch the sports and weather segments. Wrong. It just happened to be Election Watch hour while I was down there. So at first I decided to give it a go because it couldn't possibly be worse than tiredly running in silence in the wee hours of the morning. Yup, wrong again. It was painful. My body was physically in pain listening to these pundits scream at each other over and over again. I would have rather found the "Nails on a Chalk Board" station.
Therefor, I postulate that L'enfer is NOT les autres. L'enfer is in fact American political season. I hate it, I hate every bit of it. The left wing, the right wing, the middle, ALL of it. I can't wait until November 7th. No, I take that back, maybe the 8th is safer. Atleast by then, I will be able to map out a full listing of all the countries that everyone will insist they are moving to in order to cope with the results of the election. I will then use that map to plan my next vacation of where NOT to go. I'd rather take a trip to L'enfer, because les autres sound way more tolerable than an eternity of listening to any more debates, news casts, Facebook posts, or roadside advocates.
And in case you were wondering about my political affiliations...Mickey/ Jackson 2012 all the way! I'm guessing I'll probably have to write that one in though. The fever hasn't quite caught on at a national level, mostly just in our apartment.
Oh, which reminds me...Rule #6...no bumper stickers.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
The Rules of Car Care Are Simple and Finite
I did something big this weekend.
That's right, I bought a new car, the single biggest purchase I've ever made in my life. Not just any car either, but an Audi A4 2.0T. Yeah, I didn't really know what that meant either. All I really know is that it's a shiny silvery blue with leather interior, satellite radio, seat warmers, and tops out around 120mph. And it has a really cool button that does this thing where it makes a "ding" sound! Not sure what it does, but it's like totally the coolest sound ever.
And I freaking love it. Not just because it's a car, but because it's one badass car. I never actually knew that I could care anything about a car, but thank you to my new Audi, Babs, for showing me a side of me that I never thought I had. I'm looking forward to the plethora of speeding tickets that we are sure to rack up in Richmond - the town of the 25mph speed limit.
Now, I do not consider myself a particularly materialistic individual, and I'm rarely one to be "trendy", atleast I think that's what the kids call it these days, but there's something about getting behind the wheel of a sweet ride and basking in the glory that it's all mine, I bought it for myself. I am an In-De-Pen-Dent woman. Girl Power. I depend on me. And whatever other feministic quotation popular music has produced in the last 15 years. I will play all those sweet jams on my bitchin' sound system..
As an ode to my new wheels, I've decided to lay down a few simple ground rules. And for anyone who ever knew of my old Scion, I hope that you will be as amused as I am that there are now stated rules around the existence of my car. This isn't the same dog hair covered, softball equipment toting, no oil change in 2 years shell that I had no qualms about running over curbs with. I now completely understand and encourage the driver who parks at the back of the parking lot across 2 spaces in order to preserve the integrity of each precious angle of their automobile.
Rule #1- There will be NO eating in the Audi. 10 hour road trip? I suggest you consume a healthy portion of protein for breakfast, because there will not be any roadside Pizza flavored Combos brought into the vehicle. A stop at McDonalds? Don't be surprised if I let you out and then ditch you when I go to "park the car". Going out for ice cream on a hot summer eve? I suggest you scarf the entire cone between the cash register and the walk back to the car. Allow me to reiterate...THERE WILL BE NO FOOD IN THE AUDI!
Rule #2- There will be NO drinking in the Audi. Drinks are liquid, and liquids spill, that's just standard science, read any 4th grade text book (actually, don't bother, just take my word for it). You will be granted 1 (one) half filled bottle of water, provided that it has a secured sports top properly affixed in compliance with National Water Bottle Board regulations. Why a half bottle? Excellent question, allow me to move right into the next rule...
Rule #3- There will be NO peeing in the Audi. This applies to anyone and everyone, man and dog alike. Let's assume I decide to take this badass piece of automotive machinery on a road trip and we hit a stretch of I-85 where it's 40 miles to the next rest stop; I don't like them odds. So instead of playing a game of Russian Roulette with the bladder gods, there will be limited intake of H2O if you wish to roll with me and Babs. I expect Mickey to be most impacted by this one.
Rule #4- There will be NO loitering near the Audi. If everyone could just do me a solid and agree to keep a safe perimeter around Babs when she is in Park, that would be stellar. This will prevent me from having to invest in a makeshift safety perimeter that I will store, pull out of the trunk and post upon any trip in public...thereby alienating any of my friends who have already voiced rather strong opinions around "no longer wanting to be seen in public" with me. I'm not sure I can afford the decrease in social activity. Your cooperation in this matter would be greatly appreciated.
I've only had her for about 3 days now, so I'm still finalizing the governing bylaws. For any other OCD, type A car owners out there, are there any additional rules that I should be invoking? Any other simple rules to high strung car ownership of which I should be aware?
Alright, enough crazy for one night. Off to bed so that I can rest up to be in top driving condition for tomorrow. Oh, Rule #5, no fatigued driving.
That's right, I bought a new car, the single biggest purchase I've ever made in my life. Not just any car either, but an Audi A4 2.0T. Yeah, I didn't really know what that meant either. All I really know is that it's a shiny silvery blue with leather interior, satellite radio, seat warmers, and tops out around 120mph. And it has a really cool button that does this thing where it makes a "ding" sound! Not sure what it does, but it's like totally the coolest sound ever.
And I freaking love it. Not just because it's a car, but because it's one badass car. I never actually knew that I could care anything about a car, but thank you to my new Audi, Babs, for showing me a side of me that I never thought I had. I'm looking forward to the plethora of speeding tickets that we are sure to rack up in Richmond - the town of the 25mph speed limit.
Now, I do not consider myself a particularly materialistic individual, and I'm rarely one to be "trendy", atleast I think that's what the kids call it these days, but there's something about getting behind the wheel of a sweet ride and basking in the glory that it's all mine, I bought it for myself. I am an In-De-Pen-Dent woman. Girl Power. I depend on me. And whatever other feministic quotation popular music has produced in the last 15 years. I will play all those sweet jams on my bitchin' sound system..
As an ode to my new wheels, I've decided to lay down a few simple ground rules. And for anyone who ever knew of my old Scion, I hope that you will be as amused as I am that there are now stated rules around the existence of my car. This isn't the same dog hair covered, softball equipment toting, no oil change in 2 years shell that I had no qualms about running over curbs with. I now completely understand and encourage the driver who parks at the back of the parking lot across 2 spaces in order to preserve the integrity of each precious angle of their automobile.
Rule #1- There will be NO eating in the Audi. 10 hour road trip? I suggest you consume a healthy portion of protein for breakfast, because there will not be any roadside Pizza flavored Combos brought into the vehicle. A stop at McDonalds? Don't be surprised if I let you out and then ditch you when I go to "park the car". Going out for ice cream on a hot summer eve? I suggest you scarf the entire cone between the cash register and the walk back to the car. Allow me to reiterate...THERE WILL BE NO FOOD IN THE AUDI!
Rule #2- There will be NO drinking in the Audi. Drinks are liquid, and liquids spill, that's just standard science, read any 4th grade text book (actually, don't bother, just take my word for it). You will be granted 1 (one) half filled bottle of water, provided that it has a secured sports top properly affixed in compliance with National Water Bottle Board regulations. Why a half bottle? Excellent question, allow me to move right into the next rule...
Rule #3- There will be NO peeing in the Audi. This applies to anyone and everyone, man and dog alike. Let's assume I decide to take this badass piece of automotive machinery on a road trip and we hit a stretch of I-85 where it's 40 miles to the next rest stop; I don't like them odds. So instead of playing a game of Russian Roulette with the bladder gods, there will be limited intake of H2O if you wish to roll with me and Babs. I expect Mickey to be most impacted by this one.
Rule #4- There will be NO loitering near the Audi. If everyone could just do me a solid and agree to keep a safe perimeter around Babs when she is in Park, that would be stellar. This will prevent me from having to invest in a makeshift safety perimeter that I will store, pull out of the trunk and post upon any trip in public...thereby alienating any of my friends who have already voiced rather strong opinions around "no longer wanting to be seen in public" with me. I'm not sure I can afford the decrease in social activity. Your cooperation in this matter would be greatly appreciated.
I've only had her for about 3 days now, so I'm still finalizing the governing bylaws. For any other OCD, type A car owners out there, are there any additional rules that I should be invoking? Any other simple rules to high strung car ownership of which I should be aware?
Alright, enough crazy for one night. Off to bed so that I can rest up to be in top driving condition for tomorrow. Oh, Rule #5, no fatigued driving.
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